


and there was a burning deep within her soul

by cape_robin



Category: Carol (2015)
Genre: (kinda), Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cape_robin/pseuds/cape_robin
Summary: a series of vignettes documenting the winter months; therese is hurt but unable to move on. also dannie's gay and they're friends now?
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	and there was a burning deep within her soul

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is my first ever fanfic!! 0: i hope you like it <3 please let me know how i can improve

he picked up the phone after only a few rings.

it was the same phone, the same ugly black box, the same cool, rough touch of metal digging into her palm. (it was midnight and he would've killed her any other time but she was feverish and and there was bile rising in her throat and she didn't give a _damn_ if his mother was sleeping)

he seemed _too_ keen, really. or just conciliatory.

"wow! terry- it's been so long! look, i've been thinking, and i just wanted to tell you that i'm sorry for what i told you about you and you know, carol." (his voice, bitter now, made it sound an awful lot like he was also swallowing bile.)

he wanted her to take the job at the times- "you'd be great there, t! we'd save up for paris or rome or something again! (he'd squandered all the money at gambling bars and movie theatres since he'd last seen her) she ignored him. ("look, there's a box of my pictures under your bed. yes. no- don't be obtuse, richard.)

she thrust the phone back on its hook, stifling a sob with the palm of her hand. _(the windows next to the door reflected her and she wondered why she was crying; why she cared so much when really it'd been her fault and she wouldn't have had it any other way)_

mrs. johnson- the woman from down the hall with pink hair curlers and a turquoise robe- slammed open her door for a moment to tell her to _shush!_

( _god, i'm so unhappy here)_

**. . .**

she'd expected him to talk, or beg, or even just to _look_ at her, but he remained stoic. (he had always been like that; all sunken eyes and sinking his head into his scarves- and she had the urge to touch him. _im sorry._ )

(he straightened his collar, still looking down, still no expression)

he handed her the box.

"goodbye, therese."

(she felt awful and sick and rotten down to her bone marrow. she watched him walk away, his hair curled just slightly under his hat, cigarette stench chasing after him.)

 _he never smoked before._

**. . .**

abby started coming over. (she still had that look in her eyes- like she'd been betrayed, and it took her a while to warm up, slinking like a cat down her hall to the bathroom and stirring her cold tea with trembling fingers. she smelled of mint and gasoline over her yellow neckscarf and kept saying the same things over and over: _she told me she's moving downtown, no, it isn't your fault. yes, more sugar, please_ )

once, she'd made a half-hearted pass on her. ( _no, i_ don't _hate you, don't you understand?_ _)_

she'd almost liked the idea of it, (flushed cheeks and lonely mansions and sharp, whispered breaths in the middle of the night) the jumping ships, the intensity of the thing. but it felt idiotic, like they were equivocating for something, and really it just made her feel sick. (she always felt so _sick)_

she'd snatched the cigarette out of abby's hand.

"no. i don't understand anything."

**. . .**

carol had been everywhere in the pictures: gas stations and laundromats and leaning out of the car window, lighting up, the match burning her fingertips.

and so her scent, her energy, remained everywhere, clinging onto the walls and her clothes and everywhere, everywhere. (she saw her, too: a flash of her hair or her eyes or her hands in the mirror, the faint twinkling of her laugh in a diner. it was though her absence had become Her Absence, had become just as real as she had been.)

_i need to get my apartment redecorated._

she called dannie (coat thrown loosely over his shoulders, a paint can swinging at his hip) because her friends hated to get dirty and richard would've never come anyway. he looked typical. she'd never seen someone look so much like a lonesome new york city writer. she told him so.

he laughed. (it was brutish and loud and rough and reminded her of the night at his apartment when he'd tried to kiss her and for a moment- only a moment- she wanted to tell him to leave.)

instead, she swallowed the skunk smell of his breath and flashed a smile. she didn't know why she trusted him. she supposed richard had told him; they were best friends and had always told each other everything. it had always driven her crazy. it still did. but if he was still here (smirking and laissez-faire) on a sunday he could've used for anything else, really, he must've been the only person left alive to not hate her.

later, she handed him a beer (it was bitter and foamy and too warm and it took her a million tries to get the cap off.)

"you know, i wanted to say- well, i wanted to say that richard told me about, well, carol. and that, well, i know what happened between us, well. you don't have to be afraid."

"i'm not afraid." (he seemed to loom over her, though, and she felt the panic rising and once more had the urge to yell at him, to push him. _get out!)_

"well, of course. that's- that's not what i meant. what i was trying to say- i'm like you, you know."

( _impulsive. you're an idiot_. he was farther away now and she thought he didn't seem nearly as big and that maybe she didn't really want him to leave, anymore.)

she offered him a bittersweet smile. "did you tell richard?"

"yeah" he shuffled, laughing. this time it was gentle. "he didn't take it well."

"what have we gotten ourselves into?"

(the air was clean and light and she felt as though if she reached out far enough she'd touch the sun and it'd warm her soul.)

he glanced up at the photos on her wall. "that her?"

she nodded.

"you know, you really should take that job at the times."

**. . .**

_i love you_ (the words stuck in her head like glue and she couldn't help but hate richard for having made her leave and she wondered why he'd even bothered to invite her if he was just going to ignore her.)

he had a new girl. _he must've proposed by now._

she'd mentioned it to dannie, laughing, when they first came in. ( _what, you think you were the first, therese? he's got it out for all of us._ )

there was a woman, later, who seemed interested, and she tried, really tried to convince herself to reach over and- i

she didn't know what, really. decisions had never been her strong suit. 

she knew the place carol had mentioned. it was all mahogany and evening gowns and waiters in bowties that let her in when she pleaded. men whistled behind her as she left richard's party, mouth full of fuzz and ears burning. she didn't want to be there. she didn't want to see _him._

harge wasn't there. later, carol told her that he'd begged her to come ( _i only ever invited_ you). she was leaning over her seat, talking to a man therese had never seen. she sat up. their gazes met. 

( _i am alive_ )

and there was a fire burning, burning, burning deep within her soul.


End file.
